Bambi
by kristenkar
Summary: A reporter interviews our favorite redhead showgirl. Years later that same reporter interviews are favorite redhead teacher. Unfortunately this reporter ruins this redhead's life twice.
1. The secret life of a Vegas showgirl

"Bye Bambi!" a man with a huge grin across his faced called out as he slipped out of the brightly colored wooden door. This door just happened to belong to Bambi, the showgirl in Vegas. Bambi is the most popular showgirl in Vegas. But Bambi isn't just a showgirl she also is a relationship counselor (as Bambi would call it). After every performance Bambi would invite men up to her room for a trip on her silky, satin bed and showed them a feeling they have never felt before.

Bambi stuck her head around the corner of the wall, twirled her red hair with her finger and cheerfully replied "Bye, come again soon"

"Hey Bambi," another voice called out. It was Bambi's coworker Candy. Candy was a tall brunette with blue eyes and a killer body. Much like Bambi she also pulled in the men and the money.

"Another man come and gone I see." Candy told her co-worker

Bambi groaned, plopped on the couch and tossed an empty box of condoms in the trash. "Yeah, I'm exhausted don't wake me till 11."

Candy shook her head at Bambi and stated "Remember we have rehearsal in the morning." Candy was five years older than Bambi and served as a mentor to her. She taught Bambi everything about Vegas and their job, but now Bambi is a master. Bambi has been working as a showgirl for five years and when she started at age 22 she was the youngest in history to work there.

"Whatever" Bambi responded then flung a velvet red heart pillow at Candy's face.

**11:00 Bambi's POV **

"Bambi, wake up we got rehearsal in thirty minutes." Candy called

I turned over in my bed and screeched "I know!" I eventually got up, took a shower, put on some cloths and began the walk to rehearsal with Candy. We made it to the stage in less than five minutes then began preparing for practice.

"You girls made it," said my boss, Funk. Winston Funk is the owner of this casino. He was the man who discovered me. He hired me right after I graduated college. I attended community college and graduated with a teaching degree. I didn't go to a community college because I wasn't smart enough or didn't know what I wanted to do, but because I couldn't afford to pay for a university. My parents are loaded, my dad is a physician and my mom is a well known travel book author. But when I told my mom I wanted to be a teacher she disapproved and told me that she wouldn't pay for my tuition. After college I was almost out of money and was in desperate need of a high paying job. Winston overheard my situation when I was talking to a friend and said that he could help me. Winston told me that he needed a beautiful woman with dance skills to go to Vegas with him and become a showgirl. I accepted his offer and began my job as a showgirl/ relationship counselor.

"Are we late? Candy cried. Candy was always worried about being on time and as long as I was with her I was never late.

No, you two girls are not late. Good morning Bambi." Funk greeted cheerfully then flashed me a smile before he leaned in to kiss me. I know I am not supposed to have an affair with my boss but he is so fine.

Unfortunately Winston and I's passionate kiss was interrupted by Candy "Don't tell me you are doing the boss too." Although Candy good be tough on me, she always kept me in line. Many of the girls here don't like me very much. Candy tells me that the other girls hate me because I take all the men and that she would hate me too if I wasn't so nice.

Funk and I have a special relationship. I called him Winston when the two of us are alone but when around others I refer to him as Funk. He is kind of like my boyfriend but for business purposes we don't tell the other men that visit or we would lose business.

"No wonder you're his favorite." Sarcastically commented Candy

"Hey Bambi can I speak to you a sec" Funk called to me, interrupting Candy and I's conversation.

I strutted up to him, gave him a quick kiss and asked "Do you want to have sex?" Unlike the other men Funk didn't pay me for my "services". He only paid me for my dancing.

Funk smiled and sweetly responded "Yes, but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. A newspaper wants to do an article on one of my girls and I thought that you would be the perfect one to do it."

"Why me?"

Funk laughed and put his soft hand around my neck. "Bambi, you're my best dancer, you pull in the most money, you are the most beautiful and your IQ is 100 points above all the rest of the girls."

Funk's comment flattered me. Most men don't tell me that I am smart. Here in Vegas I put on a show that I am not very smart so that the other girls don't feel inferior and to attract more men. "So what is going to happen?"

"He is just going to interview you about you and job"

"Sure," I replied. I'm looking forward to meeting this reporter. I hope he is cute. I could probably get some business out of him.

"You can meet him here around 2 after rehearsal. And wear that sexy little black number you had on last night" Funk told me. Funk always wants me to dress up for men when they visited.

"Want me to give him a good impression?"

"Yep" Funk smiled, gave me a kiss goodbye then had me and the other girls begin rehearsal.

**1:30**

A very straight man came up to Funk and dryly stated "Hello, I'm here to interview one of your dancers."

"Yeah, she is rehearsing at this moment but when she is done she will meet you here. Just have a seat and watch them until she is finished. You will be interviewing Bambi, the red head in the middle of the stage.

The man started to laugh but stopped when Funk sat there in silence. "Bambi? Bambi? You have got to be kidding me. Is that her real name?"

"No, that is not her real name. My girls use different names." Funk replied slightly irritated with the man's comment.

"Do they get to pick their names?" the man asked

"Ask her. You are not interviewing me." Funk responded then got up and left.

**Reporter's Pov**

I can't believe my boss gave me this job. All of these girls are stuck up, drunken, dense whores. The only thing that they are good at in life is selling themselves to men. It's sad that they will never know what love is. I'm so glad that my fiancé and I are not like that. We have a relationship rather than a one night stand.

**Bambi's Pov**

After practice I went up to Funk "Hi Funk, where is the reporter? Do you have any special request for me?"

"Be good to him Bambi." Funk told me

"So, no favors?" I questioned

Funk smiled "No save yourself for me later tonight after the interview."

"Thanks, bye Winston." I'm not so sure if I want to do the interview anymore. I know I was excited earlier but when during rehearsal my interviewing was staring at me like I did something wrong. I felt as if I was on trail and he didn't even talk to me. He just sat in the chair and gave me a dirty look like I'm this horrible person. I wish people would stop judging me by my job. There is more to me than the number of men I have slept with.


	2. Her guys Friday

**Sorry it took a while to update. **

I wanted to I dress in something nice but not to short or revealing; unfortunately I don't own any of that type of clothing. But I eventually found something suitable and went over to where the interview was going to be and knocked on the door. "Hello," I greeted as the reporter opened the door.

His jaw had dropped slightly and I gave him a small smile thinking that maybe he doesn't hate me after all. He didn't speak for a while but he eventually mouthed the word "Wow"

"You are going to let me in? Or do I have to stand in the doorway the entire interview." I asked laughing. I stopped laughing after realizing he wasn't responding. I probably shouldn't have had those few martini's before I came here.

"Come in," the reporter told me and then directed me to a chair to sit in. I walked / stumbled to the chair he pointed to, sat down, crossed my long legs and cheerfully chirped "Let's do this!"

"Alright then," the reported mentioned. He looked at me and then took out his notepad and began taking notes. As he was taking notes I began to wonder what he was writing. Does he like my outfit? Does he think my clothes are too much? As these thoughts whirled in my mind the reporter finally spoke.

"So I tried to ask your boss this question, but he told me to ask you. Do you get to choose your names that you use here?"

Oh good, an easy question. I was begging to worry he would interrogate me. "Yeah, we choose our own names."

The reporter gave a half smile and asked "So why Bambi?"

Yes, another easy question! "I got the name from the Disney movie Bambi. I choose that name because Bambi was so cute and cuddly."

The reporter looked at me like I was crazy and snidely replied "Bambi is a man."

I paused for a moment. I had never thought of Bambi as being a dude. But my thinking was interrupted when he asked me another question.

"Why did you decide to work here as a showgirl?" the reporter asked.

"Well, I had been looking for a job to earn some cash to pay off college and _other things_. I asked my friend and she said she knew someone that worked here as a showgirl and that the job made great money. I figured since I was a good dancer that it would be a great opportunity for me. So, I left for Las Vegas, auditioned, got the job and in a year I became the youngest ever to join the larger professional group." I responded almost out of breath. I have a tendency to speak fast when I'm nervous or had too much to drink.

"So, you get a lot of money" the reporter questioned

"Yeah I do, but it is usually mostly from the favors I do for men or when I dance around the men and they stick money in my outfit." He looked at me weird so I decided to show him and I pulled up dress showing off my lacy underwear.

His mouth dropped a bit but he quickly recovered and said "Favors?"

I smiled and explained "When I walk around the audience men give me there names and I give them a time to come see me. Then when it is their turn come to my room I give them a form to fill out asking them what they want to do and what they want me to wear. After they fill out the form they get an hour or two to sleep with me and before they go they go they leave me money for my wonderful services."

This time the reported glared at me, coughed a bit to relieve the tension and then asked "Do you have any other aspirations…you do know what that big word means right?

I was offended. How dare he think I was some bimbo! "Yes, I know what aspirations means. For your information I went to college.

"You went to college?"The reporter asked as he held back his laughter

Now he was really pissing me off "Yes my mom wants me to be a lawyer like my two sisters or a head surgeon like my dad or even a well known an author like she is."

"Your mom is an author?"

"She writes travel books and every time she writes a new one she sends it to me to read." I moaned

The reporter looked puzzled and mentioned "You read?"

"Yes I read!" I yipped at the annoying man and pulled out a book "I even brought a book with me to this interview."

"That's a romance novel." He informed me

"I know what type of book it is. These stories give me ideas on how to please men. Can we wrap this up? I have to get to my 3 o clock guy." I told the reporter

He hesitated but soon replied "Sure can we meet later."

"Alright let's see when I'm free." I stated as I pull out my calendar and flip through it, "Joe, David, John, Bryce, Edward… oh tomorrow at three I have a cancelation. Does that time work for you?"

He nodded in agreement then shook my hand and left the room.

Wow that reporter is so cute. But he wouldn't stop talking. I hope he doesn't write a bad article. It's just so difficult to concentrate when I'm in front of a good looking guy. Oh, well. I guess I should go find Funk.

**Please read and review.**


	3. Barbie and Ken, Jessica and

_Flawless, by Luke Brandon_

_Vegas, the home of many entertainers; at first glance they seem innocent. Winston Funk, the owner of the Funk Casino owns his own group of "entertainers". He has his own group of elite dancers that perform every night (except for Tuesday) at 9 and 12. At first glance the girls seem glamorous, rich and dense, but when you get a closer look you realize that what you see is what you get. These flawless beauties are dim-witted woman who have such a low self esteem that they have to sell themselves to men. Bambi, the red-headed star of the group is no exception to this rule. Aside from her beauty, Bambi has nothing else to give to society. Besides dancing, many of the girls, including Bambi, will invite men up to their bedrooms for some afternoon delight. While Funk calls his girls dancers, I call them prostitutes. Keep an eye out, in five years you might see Bambi out on a street corner soliciting sex for a penny._

As I walked down the halls my fellow dancers snickered behind my back. It was not the normal gossiping they usually did, it had a worrisome tone to it. When I turned around to see what they were doing they ignored me and began to whistle.

"Bambi…" Funk called to me as he came down the hall.

"Hi Funk" I cheerfully greeted.

"Bambi…uh…Emma, we need to talk." Funk told me as he led me into his office. Normally my bosses' office is clean and organized but today there was man newspapers cluttering the floor and his desk.

It wasn't unusual for Funk to bring me into his office but this time was different. He seemed distressed instead of cheerful. "Bambi, do you remember that interview that you did about a month ago; the one about your life as a showgirl?" I shook my head yes, "Well it didn't turn out how I expected. I wanted to show it to you myself instead of having one of the girls tell you about it."

A feeling of terror came upon me. What could have that reporter said about me that was so horrible that Funk had to tell me personally? I was hesitant to read it but Funk pushed the newspaper towards me and told me to read it. My article was on the front page. This can't be good.

After I read the article my eyes began to water and my heart began to beat rapidly. "How could he say that I was a worthless skank and that I'm going to live on the street?" I pouted

"Bambi…Emma it is going to be alright." Funk reassured me. But for the first time since I have worked here I didn't believe him. Something had changed.

"I need to be alone," I whimpered as I snuck out of his cold office.

My life was not supposed to end up like this. When I was younger I had always loved dancing. My dream was to become a famous dancer. But my parents didn't except my dream. They wanted me to be a lawyer or a prestigious doctor. So instead of following my dream of going to Julliard I attended a stupid community college. Everyone in my family attended an Ivy League school, except for me. But after I told my parents I got a teaching degree, they flipped out and sent me to Yale and I eventually graduated with a philosophy degree. If I took one thing away from going to Yale it was to follow your heart and not what others tell you to do. When I realized that I decided to run away to Vegas and become a dancer.

Seven years later and look at me now. I'm sitting in an empty hall, talking to myself. Twenty nine years and what do I have to show for it, a philosophy degree and big boobs. When I was six, I used to play house with the neighbor and I told him that when I'm thirty I will be married to a handsome millionaire and have six children; three girls and three boys. The thought that I might never get married made my eyes tear up again.

"Are you ok?" a voiced said. I looked up to see who was talking to me. There was a man standing next to me holding out a tissue. "Here, I think you need this."

"Thanks," I told the man.

The man looked at me and sat down on the floor right next to me and mentions "You look sad. Do you need a shoulder to cry on?"

"I don't even know who you are." I told the man and he shrugged. I don't normally talk to strangers like this but I really could use someone to confide with. "You're sure you want to talk to me?"

"Yeah, tell me everything." He insisted "By the way, my name is Christopher."

"Mine is Emma," I replied, holding back my tears.

The two of us talked for hours. I told him about me and he told me about himself. Maybe it was because I hadn't had a real boyfriend since college or because a guy hasn't actually had a meaningful conversation with me in over seven years, but I felt a connection between the two of us.

I guess Christopher felt a connection too because after he dried my tears he kissed me. It wasn't an "I want to have sex with you kiss", but a simple "I like you kiss". The kind of kiss you get when you are a teenager and you have just gone on your first date with a guy and he kisses you goodbye on your front porch.

"I can save you," Christopher whispered in my ear. "You don't have to stay in Vegas anymore. Come back with me."

I didn't quite know what to say but I trusted him and agreed.

"Here take my hand, I'll buy you dinner and then we can head out of here." Christopher smiled

So I followed Christopher, left Vegas and never returned. After moving to Vermont with him we got engaged. My life was back on track. I was going to get married and have my six kids until that one horrible day, the day that he told me to move out of our penthouse and told me he didn't want to marry me anymore.

He had realized that I was used, couldn't support him and he didn't want damaged goods anymore. But my sister wasn't used, she didn't have multiple low paying jobs and she certainly wasn't damaged. She is Barbie and he is Ken. And I am Jessica Rabbit without my Roger. He and my sister got married. They live in our penthouse, got married at our church on our wedding day, used our flowers that I picked out that complimented my eyes and hair, received our gives, and wore my dress that I had hand picked out months in advance and tailored it to my specific needs.

I couldn't stand being in the same town, state or country as them. I had to get out. I went online to look up jobs in other countries and found a teaching job on a cruise line that traveled around that world. The job was perfect. I decided it was time to redeem myself and start a new, fresh life. So I picked up my stuff off the floor and boarded on the SS Tipton.


	4. Deja Vu Deja Vu

**Sorry it took so long to update. **

Living on a cruise line, a romantic and adventures life. At least that is what I thought. I thought being on the ship would help me grow as a person, but I feel I am losing myself. I used to have hopes and dreams, now I hope I can just make it through the day.

I feel alone on the ship. As a teacher no one looks at me. I feel invisible on this ship. No one even looks at me, except my boss, Marion Moseby. He is kind and actually seems to notice me when I walk by him. He is the only man that still complements me on my looks. When I'm with him feel warm inside, like I did when I first met Christopher. Sometimes I wish he was my boyfriend, but he would never date me. No one will ever date me. If it wasn't for that reporter, Luke, I would at least have guys interested in me. I wonder where Mr. Luke Brandon is now.

**Los Angela, California **

"Luke you have not written a decent article in over five years. Your last good piece was your Bambi story. You have one chance to write a good article or you will be fired." Luke's boss informed him

Not wanted to lose his job Luke began to think of a good story. It was then that he realized he is going to do a follow up story on Bambi, where she is now.

"I heard you are looking for Bambi." A man said from behind him

"Excuse me?" Luke asked

"Hi, I'm Christopher. I'll tell you where Bambi is. She works on the SS Tipton."

**Back on the ship**

When Luke arrived on the ship he began his search for Bambi. He was walking on the sky deck searching for a leggy red head with big boobs. There weren't many red heads on the ship that he could find so he decided to sit at the juice bar as he searched.

After a few hours a red head walked by. She was wearing a plain yellow jacket over a white shirt showing no cleavage, a knee length skirt showing very little leg and a pair of high heels purchased from Target. Bambi would never be caught looking like that but something about her seemed familiar, so Luke followed the girl.

Luke followed the red head through a few halls until she stopped and turned into a room. He went to the side of the room and peered around the corner. Inside the room the woman was standing behind a desk, waving her arms around and discussing something with the kids across the room. "This woman is a teacher," Luke whispered to himself.

After watching for a while Luke realized something. The voice seemed oddly familiar and Luke figured out that the woman standing in the room next to him was the legendary Bambi. "Bambi became… a teacher!" Luke almost burst in laughter.

Luke stayed and watched Bambi for a few hours took some notes, and listening to her talk about geography, he decided it was time to leave. But right as Luke got up to leave Bambi began to change the subject. "You're happy now, but just wait till you get older and you realized the guy of your dreams dumps you a few days before your wedding and then marries your sister instead, but you still have sex with him every Thanksgiving and Christmas because your self-esteem is so low and he makes you feel good about yourself."

After ranting some more, Bambi got up and walked outside of the classroom. Luke decided to follow her and followed her straight into the basement.

As Luke followed her a huge grin appeared on his face. When she entered the room he looked inside and found it inhabited with over thirty frolicking felines.

"Oh Bambi is going down hard." Luke said to himself as he watched her strut around her room, feeding her cats, dressing them up and putting them on her lap. "Wow instead on her sitting on men laps she has cats sitting on hers."

**Emma's POV**

As walked around the sky deck I felt as everyone was staring at me. Confused I decided to ask someone and they shoved a newspaper in my face.

_Unbelievable by Luke Brandon_

_Three years ago there was a popular showgirl, with her own perfume line, clothing line and restaurant; her name was Bambi. As every single and married man knew, Bambi would service men after her world famous show. Bambi was on top of the world, she was rich, famous and beautiful. But now, where is she? Well, Bambi, now known as Emma Tutweiller hit rock bottom. She is now working on a cruise ship as a high school teacher. She no longer wears sequins, low cut tops or shorts skirts with no underwear; she dresses like a poor middle aged woman. And to make up for her lack of guys she has cats instead, over fifty of them dressed in costumes like she used to wear herself. Bambi had it coming to her; this slut finally got what she deserved. If you are thinking of taking a cruise go look up Emma Tutweiller and when you see her just point and laugh at her till she cries and runs away. Make her feel the wife's and girlfriends of her men she slept with feel._

I ran of the sky deck as fast as I could. I could not bear to stay there any longer and watch people point at me and hear them saying "It's her," and "That's Bambi, the washed up slut,"

Once I was in my bedroom broke down in tears and fell on my couch. I turned over and saw my reflection in the mirror. Oh god I look horrible.

"He's right you know," a voice said that sounded very familiar to mine. I got up and looked around. The voice seemed to come from around the mirror.

"You are a pathetic loser." The voice chimed. I looked around trying to find the voice and I glanced back at the mirror at my reflection. "Yeah, I'm talking to you."

"Excuse me!" I asked. Did my reflection just talked to me?

My reflection smirked and stated "Luke is right. You deserve everything you got. You had it coming to you."

"I did not!" I replied

"Prove it…oh wait you can't because you can't stand up for yourself anymore, not after poor little Christopher dump you for your sister."

"I can to," I interjected

"Emma after Vegas you became so insecure."

"I'm not insecure! Wait…am I?" I worried, "Insecure about what."

My reflection smiled, shook her head and said "Let's see… you can't get a boyfriend without giving yourself to him on the first date, you go to the gym every day because you think you are too fat, you come home from work and eat your weight in ice cream, Christopher calls you thin and pretty so you have sex with him every time you see him, you own over fifty cats because you are lonely, you think it is your fault that Christopher left you, you think your eyes don't sparkle anymore, you hate your hair, and after Vegas you feel like you have to dress differently."

"I don't hate my hair!" I retorted

"Yes you do. Remember when you were a weather girl you died your hair blonde and cut it super short because you thought people wouldn't like your red hair. And now you can't decide whether to have your hair up or down and you hide it behind those hideous head-bands."

Why am I even listening to this thing? "You don't even know me!"

"I am you." My reflection replied

"Huh,"

My reflection sighed and explained "I am your conscience. You're just imagining me because you won't admit to yourself what is truly wrong with you. Once you admit your problems and overcome them, I will disappear."

"Well if you are here to help me you're not doing a very good job." I moaned. I'm getting tired of this.

"You want my help? Fine. Why don't you answer the door. Someone has been standing out there for over an hour just trying to think of what to say to you to make you feel better. He might make you feel a lot better."

"He?" I questioned

My reflection sighed again and instructed me "You heard me, go open the door and invite him inside."

**Please review. One chapter left of this story.  
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